


A Splendid Time is Guaranteed For All

by apatternedfever



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 11:15:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apatternedfever/pseuds/apatternedfever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Douglas takes Helena to the circus, and it stirs the desire for an old game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Splendid Time is Guaranteed For All

**Author's Note:**

> For a song prompt meme, for the prompt Douglas, Being For The Benefit of Mr Kite; also for an earlier prompt asking for Douglas as fae.

He brings her to the circus for their third date.

Helena admits that she hasn't been since she was a child as she climbs into the car, and Douglas grins and tells her that she'll love it. He sets the mood before they even leave the parking lot, loping strides like a lion, booming tones like a ringmaster, hopping up on the curb for an impromptu acrobatics act. She laughs, but he can see the light in her eyes as they draw nearer, the music and the smell of the food and the sound of the crowd bringing the old memories back. He imagines it would work even if she'd never been; circuses are buried in the human collective subconscious, a separate world all their own.

He always did love circuses, both in the ring and the crowd. He hasn't worked a circus in nearly thirty years, but he remembers the old ways fondly, the patter of the ringmaster and the tricks of the daredevil and the quick handiwork of the juggler all alike.

He makes sure they get a good seat, flags down the man wandering the aisles with bags of peanuts, makes the dollar bill appear from nowhere in payment. Helena laughs again, leaning on his shoulder as he sits down and offers her the bag.

There's an old itch under his skin as he watches the show, as he watches the audience watching the show. Oh, Douglas loves his job, of course, and he doesn't think he'll be ready to give up the air for years yet, but there's something about this that he could never shake the need for. Drawing in the crowd, leaving them hanging on your every word, making them gasp, making them shout, making them laugh, priming them to see everything as a wonder. It's a favorite game, and he wonders idly, as he drapes an arm over Helena's shoulders, if it's time to break out the top hat again, to play the ringmaster, or the magician, just for a little while.

It's like a magic of its own, working the crowd, it's in his blood, and he can't imagine anything he might get from denying it being worth the pain of pretending it isn't there.

But this has its own charms too, he thinks later, as they stroll out of the tent, Helena bright-eyed and beaming and arm-in-arm with him. Being part of the crowd, with a beautiful woman on his arm; being in the air, nothing but metal and engines and a bit of science keeping him up -- this life he leads has thrills of its own, even if it can't measure up to magic and tricks and games. 

He smiles, and pulls a camera out from an inside pocket of his jacket that doesn't exist, snapping a picture of Helena's smiling face over the car.

"I told you you'd love it," he tells her, and hums a cheery tune as he tucks the camera away into nothingness again.


End file.
